Title: The Raven and the Rose

Summary: To end the war that has ravished her country, the Asturian Princess Hitomi accepts the hand ofPrince Allen of the powerful Zaibach Empire. Things become interesting when the truce is broken, and Hitomi and the stable-boy Van are forced to flee, hotly pursued by Zaibach's assassins.

This is AU, but will feature all the main characters (long live Dilandau and the Hitomi/Van ship!).

Characters: Hitomi, Van, Merle, Dilandau, Folken, Dryden, Allen etc. etc. (everyone)

Pairing: Van/Hitomi (what else is there?)

Distribution: Just let me know where it goes and you can have it ;-D

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a toothbrush and a horse. You can have the toothbrush but not the horse so don't bother suing me. ;-)

Hitomi Kanzaki was sixteen years old, second heir to the throne of Asturia and in a fuming fit of rage. The heavy doors to the grand hall slammed shut with a resounding drum at her heels as she stomped down the hallway, anger causing a heated flush to rise in her cheeks and her emerald green eyes glimmered with a bright and angry sheen.

She did not hear the chorus of muffled voices that erupted in outraged cries behind her.

She heard onlythe rhythmic pounding of the heart in her chest, and only felt the murderous frustration that coursed through her like an all-devouring fire.

It was unbelievable.

She brushed some straying locks of red-brown hair out her eyes, and gathering up her skirts she quickened her pace.

It was unbelievable that her own father, whom she loved dearly, and her own brother, whom she loved less dearly, but who nonetheless remained her brother, should be capable of treating her in such an infamous manner!

Unbelivable, degrading, disgusting… and a lot of other adjectives she would not be able to think off before she was in a calmer state.

She huffed in frustration and had raised her foot to place it on the lowest grey stone-step of the winding stairway, when a familiar voice rang out from behind and caused her to pause in her furious flight.

'Hitomi!'

She turned around reluctantly, and slowly met her father's eyes as he came stalking towards her, the long cane he clutched in his right hand making the rhythm of his gait uneven. Hitomi drew a deep breath, knowing very well what came next.

It was not as if they had not been in this situation before.

'What do you mean by this?' her father enquired, hurt in his voice, and flinging out the hand that did not clutch the cane. 'What do you mean by charging off in this ungrateful manner?'

There was so much sincere disappointment and disbelief in her father's voice that Hitomi, as she had foreseen, felt her otherwise steely resolve crumble.

'Papa,' she said, her agitation evident in her voice. 'I know you mean well, papa, I know, and I never meant this as a slight on you.'

Her father's brown eyes softened slightly and Hitomi drew a deep breath. Here goes everything.

'But what you ask of me is impossible!'

'My dear girl!' her father exclaimed instantly. 'How can you speak so? After all I and your dear brother, Dryden, have done –'

'I know, papa, and never think me indifferent of the great kindness you have always shown me. As for Dryden, I believe him fully capable of enjoying this pantomime to the greatest extends, regardless of my answer.'

Her father shook his head. 'Hitomi, Hitomi, how you abuse your good brother's loving heart!'

'You will not make me feel guilty for my behaviour just now, papa. If I am to marry, it will be for love, because my heart commands it! I cannot marry Amano. I do not love him!'

'Chit-chat, my dear. That, you can always learn.'

'No, Papa. No. That is, was and always will be answer. I will not be sold like a horse on the market stand to a man I do not love.'

'Sold! Sold, indeed, as if I would ever sell my dearest and only daughter! No, I have very great faith in you being exceedingly happy with Count Amano and –'

Having no desire to hear anymore of what her father had to say on the matter, Hitomi spun on her heel, feeling tears of hurt and frustration well in her eyes.

'Hitomi.'

Once again her father's gentle voice caused her steps to falter but this time she did not turn around.

'I will not live forever, my child,' her father's voice said softly. 'Dryden will be a good king, he will see to you every comfort but what if Asturia falls? What if Dryden falls? Who then shall take care of my lovely daughter?'

Hitomi turned to face him.

'I only want your best, my child. If I could see you married and well before my time has gone I shall want nothing more.' He was silent for a moment before adding thoughtfully: 'Of course, an end to this interminable war would be a very positive thing indeed.'

Hitomi smiled slightly. 'Oh Papa!' she whispered and hugged him. 'I know you do. We all do. I, too, want a man to love, to trust, a man who will love me and take care of me in return. But I want to choose that man. I don't want him thrown at me, forced on me, even in the best of interests.'

Her father sighed. 'Very well then. If you will not repent then I must return alone and make best of what is left of the Count's goodwill. We need every ally in a time like this.'

Hitomi just smiled. 'Papa…'

'I know, I know,' he said briskly, turning laboriously and leaning heavily on the cane. 'No more shall be said on this topic.'

'By you at least,' Hitomi interjected. 'You can hardly promise for my 'good brother', whose undeniable satisfaction with events like this always seem to succeed your grief and my frustration.'

For a moment her father regarded her in silence and with a thoughtful frown on his face. Then he sighed again, and said: 'You are quite right. Dryden is a good son and he will be a good king but his equally good humour does betray him in matters like these.'

Without another word he made his back towards the grand hall, and Hitomi stood and watched him leave in wondrous silence.

It was the seventh time. The seventh time she had been paraded into the grand hall and presented before a young man she had never in her life laid eyes on before. The seventh time in her life she had been expected to marry without her consent, and six times had she spent crying in her room; sitting on the edge of her bed, watching the sun set and listening to her father's muffled pleas from behind the locked and bolted door.

Seven times and no more.

Hitomi had always believed in love. Her brother would say thather romantic tendencies were a by-product of all the sentimental mush she always buried her nose in. She would then throw said sentimental mush at his patronising face and yell that just because he had the emotional capacity of a dead cod, did not mean he should expect everybody to be as insensitive as himself.

Or something like that.

It was true though, she reflected, ascending the staircase and suddenly feeling lighter than before. She was a romantic. She wanted to and believed herself capable of marrying for love, and living happily ever after; preferably in a little cottage with sheep and cows and horses. She smiled for herself as she pushed the door to her room open and stepped inside, casting a brief glance out of her window towards the misty horizon of jagged mountain tops.

Suddenly the sunlight streaming from the windows seemed much brighter than before.

'The east Coast has fallen to the Emperor, my Lord,' Balgus said sombrely as the old King sunk into his chair with a tired groan. The war general indicated the yellowing map that lay sprawled upon the table before them. 'They came from the mountains. There was no alarm, no warning. Men were slaughtered like animals, women and children taken as slaves. When our army arrived, the towns of Hytuira and Ares were deserted and the ash cold.'

'Only the Forest of Dreams separates the great imperial army and Asturia, my Lord,' the second general added. 'When the time comes, I fear that the citywalls will not stand long against such an onslaught.'

'Tairehn?' the old king muttered, the furrows on his brow deepening in worry.

'Gone,' Balgus stated curtly, anger evident in his voice. 'As are the rest of our allied towns. They run when the Empire comes, or pay their bloodied tax to get protection from the slaughtering army as it moves towards Asturia in an ever-deepening river of blood.'

The king sighed and rubbed his temples with fingers lined with age. 'How stands the funds, Medon?'

'Very ill,' the treasurer replied and shook his head with despondence. 'War is expensive, my Lord King, and Asturia's fortune was never great.'

'We are and always have been a people of peace, shepherds and breeders of horses,' Balgus said. 'I shall think no less of my countrymen for their lack of skill in war.'

'And yet,' the treasurer cut in. 'A lack of skill in war is a lamentable thing indeed when war is waging on your doorstep.'

Balgus rounded on him, his friendly face darkening in fury. 'And what of you, master Medon? Where is your bow and arrows, where is your horse and spear? I do not see you fighting for you country, or I should think higher of you!'

'Balgus!' the king barked hoarsely. 'None of this! We will not have quarrels amongst friends. Lords know we have quarrels enough with our enemies…'

Balgus lowered his bearded face and turned to the map. 'Pardon me, my Lord,' he muttered.

The King shifted slightly in his chair. 'So after so much death and destruction, so many young lives wasted, Asturia will fall…' he whispered, his eyes tracing the path drawn in red by the advancing imperial army. He looked up and met his general's gaze. 'What do you propose, my friend? What now for Asturia?'

Balgus sighed. 'Withdraw the army, my Lord. Seek a truce. This is a war we cannot win and there is nothing to gain by sending more young Asturians to their senseless death.'

The King quirked an eyebrow at him. 'Do I understand you, Master Balgus? You want to run?'

Balgus never flinched. 'Aye, my Lord. I do.'

The King just nodded. 'And what then? What future is there then for Asturia? Lost, in enemy hands -'

'But with most of its people still alive!' Balgus exclaimed with forceful exasperation. 'Send the rest of able-bodied men to their destruction and what future is there then?'

The King was silent and after a moment Medon added:

'You general Balgus is right, my Lord King. As long as the people of Asturia survive, Asturia shall live. Kill the people and the walls will remain but Asturia will be gone forever.'

The old King turned his inquisitive gaze on his treasurer but it was a new voice that answered.

'You speak well, Master Medon. Perhaps your talent does extend beyond counting your own gold-doubloons.' A young man with his brown hair drawn back in a messy ponytail and a pair of narrow rimmed glasses balanced on the rim of his nose stepped into the light of the lamp. 'May I speak, father?'

The King turned his eyes on his son and gave a small shrug. 'Dryden, my son, you have already done so, and I have known you long enough to be aware that whether I wish it or not you shall always speak your mind.'

A lazy grin spread across the younger man's face, and he stepped up beside Balgus, placing the tip of a long, slim finger on the map.

'Here,' he said. 'This is where we know the Emperor delivered his last assault. At Ares.'

'Yes, Lord Dryden,' Balgus said. 'We know.'

Dryden held up a hand to silence him and went on as though he had not been interrupted. 'From Lochbahn to Hytuira to Ares,' his pale finger traced the route as he spoke, tapping the spot where the name 'Ares' had been written in an elegant black hand.

The entire assembly watched him uncertainly as he straightened and regarded them all with a knowing grin. 'Why?' he asked. 'Why attack Ares? Who cares about a little fishing village? It is not our main source of import, there are no major routes passing through, no estates of significant wealth.' He crossed his arms and leant nonchalantly back against the table. 'In short, there is nothing in Ares to tempt an army of thousands apart from a nice diversion.'

Balgus' eyebrows rose in realisation. 'They are coming from the north.'

Dryden clicked his tongue. 'Exactly, Master Balgus, and if my assumptions are true… why, then they could easily be here by nightfall in three days time.'

The King looked his son with barely veiled pride.

'So, if you intend to seek a truce,' Dryden continued. 'I suggest you do it soon.' He turned to face his father. 'Let me ride out with Balgus and five good men, Father. We will meet the Imperial army, and I shall seek a truce on your behalf.'

For a moment the king sat silent and still.

Then he nodded.

Once.

The oil lamp spluttered and hissed behind the glass, the twitching flame causing the shadows to run along the walls in a spontaneous, irregular dance, blurred figures melting together and separating again before she had time to make them out.

Hitomi sat on her bed, her legs pulled back underneath her, her white nightdress falling lightly from her shoulders and her gaze transfixed upon the moving shadows.

'It'll only be four days,' Dryden said. 'I can probably get there in a day and a half on horseback. It's the politics that take up the time.'

Her brother stood slanting against the wall beside the closed door in his customary unaffected and nonchalant manner. His narrow-rimmed glasses balanced precariously on the bridge of his nose and his brown hair was pulled back in a deliberately messy pony-tail.

Hitomi looked at him for a moment.

'Why do you wear them?' she asked dully. 'The physicians say your eyesight is perfect.'

Dryden flashed a crooked grin at her, his eyes gleaming mischievously behind the sparkling pieces of glass. 'I know; boring old buggers the lot of them.'

Hitomi returned to staring at the shadows. After a moment in silence, Dryden's long coat ruffled noisily as he shifted his position slightly.

'Take care of Father while gone, 'kay, sis?'

Hitomi nodded. Her eyes hurt from staring at the shadows without blinking.

'Please come back again,' she whispered.

Dryden's familiar, barking laugh immediately flooded her room, but Hitomi wasn't hurt by this. She knew Dryden found it hard to handle the fact that people genuinely cared about him. His long legs allowed him to cross the room in two long strides but unlike the brothers in the books he neither kissed nor hugged her. Instead he reached out a hand and rumpled her hair, just like he knew she hated it.

'Stop it! You…you jerk!'

Grabbing a pillow Hitomi hurled it at her brother's grinning face with all the strength she could muster. He caught it easily and passed it back to her.

'Get out!' Hitomi yelled, aware that the effect would probably have been more profound had she not been laughing quite so much at the same time.

Dryden sunk down in a ridiculously low bow. 'As me lady desires it,' he said theatrically, withdrawing to the door where he paused for a moment with his hand on the doorknob. 'Goodnight,' he said. 'Sleep well, and may you dream pleasantly of all the young men in this world whose hearts you have yet to break –' He ducked as a pillow sailed over his head in an elegant curve.

'Try not to fall off your horse,' Hitomi said, smiling sweetly at him. He grimaced at her, pulling the door open and stepping into the dimly lit corridor. Just before the door slid shut he paused and poked his head into her room again. Hitomi held up another pillow in warning but he raised his palm in a submissive gesture.

'Oh, and sis? That Amano fellow was an idiot.'

'Thank you,' Hitomi said quietly, watching as the door slid shut, listening as the muffled rhythm of Dryden's footsteps soon faded behind the spluttering the lamp. And on the walls the shadows were still dancing.

I apologize for this slow opening chapter. I promise, promise, that everything will make more sense once I've established the situation. Who knows, Van might even make an entrance at some point! ;-)

For now, please review and let me know if you have ideas, suggestions, criticisms etc.!